


Déjà Vu

by contextclues



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Caring Greg Lestrade, Character Death, Death, Greg Lestrade Being Patient, Grief/Mourning, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Nice Philip Anderson, Sad, Suicide, Wistful
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-21
Updated: 2020-03-21
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:55:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23238055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/contextclues/pseuds/contextclues
Summary: Lestrade and Anderson in front of a coffee stand, grieving the late Sherlock Holmes. Déjà vu.
Relationships: Philip Anderson & Greg Lestrade
Kudos: 6





	Déjà Vu

**Author's Note:**

> Based on the scene in the Empty Hearse

"You're not listening. He's faked it before, all I'm saying is it's possible he-"

"Stop it! Just stop it, alright? He's dead. He's dead, he's actually fucking dead, and he's not going to come back this time. It's not 'let's wait two years and he'll return from picking apart whatever terrorist network he's dismantling this time,'" Lestrade wasn't yelling, but his voice was firm. He wasn't loud, he was tired. 

He slowed down his words, but kept his voice just as solid as he looked at Anderson, "He's gone, mate. We'll never see him again, and no matter how much you avoid it, that's just the truth of it."

"I still don't know why he did it." Anderson whispered after a moment.

Greg softened just slightly, dropping his shoulders with a sigh. "I don't know, mate. I don't. Wish I could tell you."

"Nobody ever really understood him, did they?" It wasn't a question really. Just the sort of breathy little afterthought that faded away as it was spoken, gentle enough in its taper to invite either answer or silence. 

"No," Greg looked to the pavement and scuffed it lightly with his shoe, "No. That just might've been the bloody problem, though.

Suddenly Anderson's coffee felt too cold on his lips. He tossed it in the bin behind them.

"See you at work later, yeah?" He offered, shoving his hands into his jacket pockets.

"Yeah." Lestrade agreed quietly, clutching onto his cup with white knuckles. 

Anderson nodded slowly before walking off. Greg watched him go for a moment, bothered slightly by the way his colleague's head dropped down and his posture grew stiff, but he was too exhausted to dwell. 

He shoved his left hand in his pocket and pulled out his last cigarette. He had only bought the carton the day before, but he couldn't say he was surprised.

He balanced his coffee in the crook of his arm and stuck the cigarette between his lips, closing his eyes as he lit it.

Taking a long drag, he ignored the part of him that knew he wouldn't feel better after the smoke, just as he ignored the small part that told him he wished Anderson was right.

He leaned his head back in practised movement as he exhaled, surprised at just how still London's air could feel.


End file.
